


water's edge

by addictedtoacertainlifestyle



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Astraphobia, Descriptions of a Panic Attack, F/M, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Lighthouse Keeper Ben Solo, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26948989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictedtoacertainlifestyle/pseuds/addictedtoacertainlifestyle
Summary: This is by no means her first trip alone, but it is her first time going up to the lighthouse.In a town as small as hers, there will always be rumours, mentions in passing or something much more detailed, thoughts and speculation shared during teatime or in the post office after meeting unexpectedly. Especially of a fellow who just showed up one day, seemingly out of nowhere and took up the position of the lighthouse keeper, a position that used to belong to the old Skywalker. People knew very little about the new man beyond that he carried the name of Ben Solo.--A thunderstorm brings two strangers together in unexpected ways.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 16
Kudos: 47
Collections: To Rapture the Earth and the Seas: the 2020 Reylo Fanfiction Anthology





	water's edge

” _ The forecast promises clear skies and a peak of 45 degrees for Saturday. A rather vicious storm is predicted to hit the west coast on Sunday morning, so sailors, watch out! The next week will be— _ ”

Rey turns off the radio by the counter and closes the cash register with an unmistakable click. Next she dashes to the store’s front door to turn the little sign hanging by the window, OPEN to CLOSED. She checks that the door is closed for good measure before heading across the store to the backroom, where a small staircase leads her upstairs.

Above the little store is a small flat that houses Rey and her mother, Maz. The shopkeeper of many years, a well-known face around town, with a past everyone is keen to figure out. No-one has succeeded so far. And for Rey… Well, she knows enough about her, and will always be silently grateful she took her under her wing even though Maz has told her numerous times it was for ”mutual benefit” with a glint in her eyes. 

She wanted a daughter, and Rey wanted a family. Nothing more, nothing less.

Now the years have gone by and they’ve grown older together. Maz’s motherly instincts have begun to retreat behind her nonchalant talk and secretive smiles, but never so much that Rey wouldn’t notice them. Even now, lying in the bed sick with the flu, she’s still silently worrying, just a little bit. Always looking after Rey and making sure she’s alright.

”I’ll be fine, Maz. I can handle myself.”

The woman in question chuckles and Rey can tell she’s being genuine, even though her eyes are weary, tired from the sickness. Without the huge round glasses that she always wears when up and about, she looks even smaller than usual, somehow, shrunken in her bed. Maz takes a deep breath, looks out the partly open window. The seagulls scream for something not too far away. 

She looks back to Rey. ”I know you can. That’s why I won’t say anything.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“There’s no hurry. Chewie promised to check on me later. The old chap makes sure I’ll have everything I need.”

“I’m sure he does.” 

Rey can’t help herself from smirking. Chewie lives a few streets down from the shop. He’s a burly, stoic but kind man with a thick accent that gives his Gaelic ancestry away with one word. It’s no wonder he’s caught Maz's eye. Rey doesn’t mind the slightest; she’s endlessly glad her mother has someone to keep her company. It would do her some good to have someone to look after her; she’s been doing it all by herself for most of her life.

Maz gives her a cautionary look, but her knowing smile betrays her. “Be on your way now. The keeper isn’t as bad as people make him out to be. I’m sure you two will get along just nicely.”

\--

Outside, the sky is littered with puffy clouds drifting lazily, but as Rey takes a turn to the dock she spots a dark, murky mass in the horizon: the storm that was predicted to arrive tomorrow. Not today.

She sighs, irritated, and her steps falter, eventually stopping as she looks on to the sea where the clouds gather. Never trust a forecast, it seems. It looks to be far enough, though, and if she’s fast, she’ll get back to mainland before the worst hits. She has to make it work. The delivery has been postponed for a few days already, since Maz’s recovery has taken longer than she expected. Leaving the keeper without food isn’t something anyone wants. She has to get the supplies to him  _ today _ , and if it means racing against a force of nature, then that’s what she’ll have to do. 

To her great pleasure, Rey finds the boat already loaded with the supplies she’s to deliver. It’s simple enough to untie the boat from the dock and jump in, water splashing against the edges of the hull. She stumbles to find a seat amidst the supplies and turns on the engine. As she guides the boat through the intricate labyrinth that is the other boats in the dock, eager anticipation makes itself known inside her, a certain curiosity that makes her chest flutter and forget about the rising storm for a moment. This is by no means her first trip alone, but it is her first time going up to the lighthouse.

In a town as small as hers, there will always be rumours, mentions in passing or something much more detailed, thoughts and speculation shared during teatime or in the post office after meeting unexpectedly. Especially of a fellow who just showed up one day, seemingly out of nowhere and took up the position of the lighthouse keeper, a position that used to belong to the old Skywalker. People knew very little about the new man beyond that he carried the name of Ben Solo.

Five years ago, when she was a fresh faced 16-year-old finally managing the shop alongside Maz, Rey remembers him being the talk of the town. Behind the cash register she heard a lot of things, rumours about this new lighthouse keeper who rarely showed his face in town, choosing to have supplies delivered to him each fortnight instead. This was unlike the previous keeper, a sullen but ultimately kindhearted old man called Skywalker, who was a favourite amongst townsfolk. 

A sudden change is never something people take easily, especially when the successor has huge shoes to fill. The talk quickly shifted from mysterious curiosity to contempt. None of the townsfolk outright hate him, but they aren’t keen on his private ways. In a small town such as this, people want to be familiar with each other — have some kind of connection. Rey can’t fault them for that, but she would never dislike the keeper for such feeble reasons, either. Some people want to be left in their own devices. 

If she’s being honest, his omnipresence only made her more curious. It’s a rare occurrence, a bold thing for someone to arrive and settle into a tight-knit community. He kept up his mysterious persona by never revealing himself, which is enough to make anyone interested. Today she might just have a chance to find out what kind of man Ben Solo really is. 

The island is not far away, barely ten minutes with the boat. The waves lap and reach upwards, splashing on her, droplets scattering on her face. She squints her eyes against the headwind, bouncing on the waves as the boat soldiers on. The storm approaches with unpredictable swiftness, the first rumblings of thunder already announcing themselves in the distance. They bring a tightness to her throat, an uncomfortable tension into her muscles. The air is thick from tension, making her feel light-headed.

When she rounds the bay in search of the dock for the island, she sees someone step out of the lighthouse — a dark figure in a stark contrast against the last remains of the blue sky. The lighthouse keeper.

Right afterwards she spots the end of the dock, peeking out from behind a rock. A glance to the man who’s walking roughly towards the same place confirms that’s where she’ll have to head. It doesn’t take her long to curve around the rock where the dock greets her. She slows down and turns off the engine, as the man walks down towards her. The water carries her to the dock. Her hands grab the edge of the boat to balance herself as it hits the pillars of the dock, making the supply boxes shake and rattle. Rey looks up, face to face with the man; finally close enough to take a proper look at him. 

He’s… Nothing what she expected. He is unlike anyone she’s ever seen, but somehow familiar. With his tall form dressed in a knitted jumper and navy trousers, he looks every bit of a nautical man. His face is framed by long dark hair that ruffles slightly in the wind, a small scruff lines his jaw and chin. Sharp features, long nose and a clear-set brow are contained by soft edges. There is something intimidating, even fearsome in his features, but the roughness falls apart in the sunlight that’s slowly fading.

”Ben Solo, is it?”

”One and the same. And you are…?”

His voice is almost pleasantly posh, articulated and slow in a way that tells her right away he isn’t originally from here. 

”Rey Niima.” 

”Nice to meet you, Rey,” he says. Ben stretches out his hand in a greeting; she takes it, and he helps her to get off the boat onto the dock. ”Wait… You’re Maz’s daughter?”

”I am. She wasn’t feeling too well today, so I’m doing the supply run instead.”

Ben looks at her, takes her in with a piercing gaze of pure curiosity. ”I see. I hope she feels better soon.”

”I’m sure,” she reassures him with a small smile. ”She’s made out of stern stuff.”

”That she is.” Silence falls between them, soon broken by a distinct rumbling in the distance. Ben spares a glance at the supplies, then looks towards the ocean. ”The storm’s closer than I thought. We’ve got to hurry.”

Rey looks over her shoulder, and indeed, the dark clouds are approaching faster than she’d like. At this rate it will be hell to get back. Dread creeps down her spine at the idea of navigating the waves back to shore with the wind and thunder. They have to be quick.

Together they set out to carry the supplies. Rey follows after Ben past the hidden cove where the dock safely resides and up a worn path that leads to the sharp cliffs carrying the whole island on their shoulders. The wind has picked up, relentlessly raging in from the horizon. Rey shivers beneath her jumper and clutches the wooden box closer in her arms with a shaking grip, weight slumped heavy against her chest. In front of her, Ben walks with determined steps, unaffected by either the storm or the load he carries. 

He leads her to the lighthouse that looks over the bay, a fixed mark she’s seen nearly all her life. It feels different up close, though, when she’s faced with it. Much taller than she expected, stretching up into the clouded grey sky as she stands on the front door and looks up. The famous stripes of red and white, the beacon perched on top. Quite the sight to behold. 

They find a quick rhythm in silence that’s only briefly disturbed by the sounds of the thunder, bringing the supply boxes from the boat with an urgency in their movements, piling them by the door of the lighthouse until they’re all safely out of the boat. Ben sets the last box down with a grunt. He wipes his forehead with the sleeve of his jumper and looks over to Rey who is huddled against the door, away from the wind.

“Up to you, but I wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. Would be best to wait till it’s calmed down.”

She nearly protests, anxiety begging her to fight against this notion. But the reality of the storm is too strong for her to ignore.

“I… guess I don’t have a choice,” she laments, sighing, trying to mask her unease. She’d been too naive to think anything different. That blasted forecast! If they’d just predicted the storm correctly she would’ve had the common sense to not leave at all today and would now be back at the shop with Maz, and not here basically stranded with—

”It should pass by tomorrow,” Ben says as an afterthought, bringing Rey out of her head. He stays quiet for a while, his back turned towards her, mulling things over. She tries to brush aside her agitation by thinking how unused he must be to these sorts of situations, talking like this with a stranger. ”The lighthouse will fit us both. Don’t have to worry about that.”

Rey can’t figure out an answer fast enough, but he doesn’t seem to be expecting one. ”I’ll go secure the boat. You can start carrying those inside. Stack them near the stove.”

The wind ruffles his hair, but he remains indifferent. Once again his steps are steady as he takes the path down to the dock. 

A freezing gust of wind slips down the collar of Rey’s jumper. The skies open with a sharp sting of summer rain, cold from the storm. For a moment she stays there, the need to wait and make sure Ben does not face any sudden difficulties battles against the shivers that eventually make her move, starting the cycle of moving boxes once more. She calms down only after he comes back and begins to help her. Bit by bit, they move everything inside, away from the storm that’s really starting to kick in now. 

\--

The lighthouse is actually much smaller from the inside than Rey expected. A spiral staircase starts right by the front door, going up the sides of the room to the beacon and what she believes must be the engine room. The ceiling of the room reaches high above, but there’s definitely no generous amounts of space to waste. Everything seems to work together, blending each element seamlessly into the other. There are no windows until higher up in the staircase and the walls are off-white plaster, but even in its bare form it looks comfortable.

He’s got everything a modest keeper could ever need, and honestly, if Rey squints and tilts her head, it could be seen as luxurious. No electricity or water is a challenge by itself, but everything looks neat and thought-out. He keeps his small stove clean, his few books nicely arranged on a small shelf, the pull-out bed made and tucked in.

Rey sits down by the table next to the stove as Ben begins to unload the boxes. A trapdoor under the stairs reveals a storage space where he stacks most of them. He works in silence, as expected, and Rey feels awkward, just sitting there, observing while he does all the work. Normally, she wouldn’t be here to help him. And it’d just make things more uncomfortable, trying to offer him help when he’s clearly doing fine.

Besides, he’s not complaining, is he?

After everything is done and the empty boxes are stacked in a small alcove waiting to be turned into firewood, Ben gets a fire going in the stove. A simple, short strike of a match slowly turns small kinding into a full-blown fire, happily crackling in the hearth. Crouched in front of the stove, his huge body folded, he almost seems small, but his presence fills every corner of the room. He stares into the fire, clearly lost in thought, the bright yellow and orange lights chase one another on his face, a mesmerizing sight Rey can’t get enough of. 

Together they share this moment, both engrossed in something the other doesn’t see.

Eventually, the tide shifts and Ben focuses his attention back to her.

”Are you hungry?” he asks. 

Rey can’t accuse him of not having manners, even if he isn’t the most eloquent in delivering them. Because yes, she definitely is hungry, though the approaching thunder has made her stomach twist and turn for other reasons than hunger. She’s grateful when Ben digs out a pan, a few canned goods, and begins to prepare dinner.

They eat mostly in silence. Rey just about devours everything on her plate, not having realised how hungry she really was until the enticing scent of his cooking reminded her. She steals glances at him, but he is engrossed in his meal and doesn’t notice. Not even when he clears their plates. He seems distant, and Rey knows there has to be a way to break the barrier he insists on keeping up.

Her curious eyes have already charted every inch in the room, but they land on top of the small bookshelf. Over the ledge peeks a deck of cards, with scuffed edges and faded colours from old age and plenty of use.. 

A proverbial light bulb switches on in her head.

”I was thinking…” she starts, gestures to the deck. This is an opportunity for a distraction but also something that’ll hopefully bring him out of his shell more. “Want to play gin rummy? I can teach you.”

“As long as it’s easy,” he relents. Rey thinks that’s as close to a  _ Yes, please _ as she can get right now.

“I promise. Shake the deck and deal us eight cards both, I’ll show you.”

Ben is a quick learner. He pays keen attention to her as she explains the rules briefly and guides him through their first round. His eyes are eager, trained on her, watching with that same curiosity she remembers from the dock. His gaze is stern, but there’s a gentleness in his movements as he holds the cards; his huge hands curl around the fragile, seemingly small cards in a way that if being honest, she wouldn’t mind—

”I believe this is gin,” Ben interrupts her rather quickly escalating train of thought with a very confident voice as he sets four aces on the table.

Ben wins the first round, because Rey decided to let him win—  _ not _ because she focused on something else. The second, though, she wins without trying too hard, starting off with a good hand. To her pleasure Ben is not easily discouraged, only displeased. He shuffles the cards again and they start another game.

”When all you play is solitaire, it’s not that easy to learn new tricks.” He inspects his new cards; an intense look crosses over his features. ”But never impossible.”

Soon enough Ben slams a row of four different nines on the table. A few more turns and Rey is promptly defeated by him, now by all four jacks. 

“I’ll get you back!” she blusters. 

Ben leans back with a smirk and picks another card from the deck. 

\--

After some time the cards shift to drinking. When Ben offers to raid the liquor cabinet for a dusty bottle he has been saving for a guest, Rey can't refuse.

She manages to take some small, bitter sips that warm the back of her head, burn in her throat and eventually make her wince from the sharpness of it. Rey’s not the one for finer things; she’d rather drink a cider at the local pub than sip brandy or whisky. 

“Not your favourite?” he asks with a hint of teasing in his voice.

“To be frank,  _ no _ . You got Blackthorn Dry by any chance?”

If he doesn’t enjoy her honest manner of speaking, he doesn’t let her know, only tells her that the whiskey is all he has. He takes her barely-touched glass and swallows its contents with one gulp. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve, exhales deeply. Pours himself a little bit more and drinks that too. 

A phrase comes to Rey’s mind: liquid courage.

After a heartbeat of silence he clears his throat, nervousness in his eyes. ”I wish to apologise for my, uh, occasional—”

”Bluntness?”

”Yeah. I’m not too used to having someone over, someone like you, and... It’s— I just hope you don’t think too lowly of me.” 

S _ omeone like you.  _ Rey blinks as she regards him, his words sticking with her. What does he mean by that? His gaze reveals nothing, only slight unease, so she decides to reassure him.

“Don’t worry, I’m not bothered. I’m not the most polite either. And honestly, you’re much better than the townsfolk made you out to be.”

“They’ve… talked about me?”

“Of course,” Rey says, leans in a little bit. “A mysterious man shows up one day out of nowhere. They’re curious, want to know more about this new keeper, right? And you’re not exactly the most sociable, so… I guess you didn’t leave the most, uh, charismatic impression of yourself. You’ve sort of made them suspicious of you.”

“Huh. Well, I can’t fault them for that. I haven’t exactly… made the effort of trying to be friendly with them.” He swallows, looks down. “Even though I probably should’ve.”

“Why didn’t you, then? You just resigned to your fate of becoming a hermit. Didn’t you ever want to prove them wrong? Never wanted to show them who you really are?” 

Ben is quiet for a while, looking at anything but her. Searching for an answer he wants to give her, and so Rey doesn’t push him. 

A loud thunderclap somewhere nearby makes Rey take a deep breath as a wave of dread rises, one that had subsided for a while thanks to the provided distractions. To calm down her nerves in the silence, she looks at Ben for some sort of refuge. She’s  _ safe _ , she’s  _ fine _ . 

“I’m going outside,” he finally says, and it’s more of a statement than anything else. “You should come too.”

“What?”

Ben’s already getting up on his feet. He opens the small closet next to his bed and pulls on a dark raincoat. His eyes sparkle, a new light in them that Rey hasn’t seen before. “To see the storm. It’s marvelous to watch.”

Any semblance of calm she had is beginning to slip from her. It feels as if there’s a heavy stone in her belly; she feels dragged under by it. “It’s— I don’t think that’s wise, Ben.”

”It’s what I always do, and it won’t be for long. You’ll love it.” He puts on his rain boots quickly and takes the Sou’wester from its hook by the door.

”Ben—”

The storm wind howls its frightening melody as Ben opens the door and steps outside. A quick slam and everything’s quiet again.

Rey shakes where she sits. She is stuck and doesn’t want to get up even though restlessness is taking over her. Her fingertips feel numb, her body weightless but she’s still extremely aware of every part of her. Nausea deepens as she gets up and fights the instinct that tells her to freeze, curl up under the table and turn a blind eye to everything around her until the storm passes. But she can’t have it take over her now.

She needs to get Ben back inside.

\--

Rey doesn’t remember when she began to forget what happened. 

It’s been over 16 years now; the memory has gradually faded into a fog of blurred edges and words. Sometimes she thinks she dreamt it all. That it’s all been a nightmare so real her child mind couldn’t distinguish it from reality.

But would she fear it so much if it didn’t really happen?

She clings to the last fragments she can still see clearly. A view of a wide, seemingly endless ocean that rocks the boat in time with the storm; loud roaring thunder and blinding lightning; heavy rain and wind howling without respite as she curls up at the bottom of the boat, shivering in the early-autumn cold. Alone and cast out.  _ Abandoned. _

Before Maz found her, she drifted. Everything has turned into a jumble in her mind. She barely remembers what her parents looked like, and she has scarce memories of her childhood. Much of it is lost to her.

She doesn’t have to remember it anymore; things are better than ever, she’s  _ safe _ and she is  _ fine _ . But it persists, it reminds her of the past everytime she sees the thunderclouds rolling in.

\--

The wind is fearless; the thunder merciless.

Ben stands by a sharp ledge right at the end of the island, overlooking the raging ocean. The waves are high with white peaks, roaring as they crash down by the rocks and make water splatter everywhere. In this dark light, the sun obscured by the deep-grey clouds, a strange glow emits from him. Even though Rey knows he’s only a few steps away, the distance feels so much more than that.

”Ben—!”

He turns around to face her. ”Rey? What is it?”

Her voice feels small; the storm is loud around her and she can’t breathe, only heave for air as she muddles on. Her steps are hesitant against the slippery rocks, water spilling over them as the ocean dances in time with the storm. 

Ben dashes towards her and catches her in his embrace, a pair of arms encircling around her as she hides her face in his chest. Her whole body trembles and for a moment she fears her legs will give under; her heart hammering a fast rhythm all the while. 

”Hey, it’s alright. Everything’s fine.”

”No, it’s not!” she whimpers, barely even hearing herself. ” _ It’s not! _ ”

Lightning strikes, white light flashing in a sea of black, and Rey clutches Ben tighter. They’re going to die, she can feel it, she’s going to pass out and die and he’s going to be washed away by a wave and—

Thunder rumbles soon after. The storm is right overhead. Rey isn’t sure if the heartbeat she hears is Ben’s or hers. Everything is loud and quiet all at once in the darkness. 

Rey breathes in deeply and — a scent she hasn’t encountered before permeates her senses. Sharp salt of the ocean, warm firelight beneath the engine oil and wet earth. Strong and undeniably distinct, and through her haze she realises it to be Ben’s. Her hands clutch his jumper in a tight grip as he hushes her, runs a hand down her back. She shivers from the cold, the wind pushing through her jumper. 

”Let’s go inside,” Ben’s voice echoes. ”We’ll be safe there, I promise.”

She has no choice but to hang on.

\--

At last, Ben closes the door, and then they’re back in the warmth, tucked away and hidden from the storm. Rey takes a deep breath, and while it wavers and her chest still stings, she’s starting to feel like she  _ can _ make it through this moment. She’s no longer in the deathly grasp of the fear; it’s slowly loosening its hold on her.

They more or less collapse on the floor, her back against the door as Ben towers over her, almost as if shielding her with his body. After a few deep breaths, Ben speaks up:

”I’m sorry for dashing out like that. I should’ve listened to you. I had no idea it frightened you so much.”

”You couldn’t’ve known. I’m not… mad at you or anything. I was terrified. I thought...” She swallows, her exhale jittery. ”It shouldn’t bother me anymore, it makes no sense.”

”It doesn’t have to make sense,” he murmurs. ”If it hurts you, it hurts you. That’s all.”

How gently he speaks those words. A plain statement, a truth to him, something he doesn’t have to think twice about, even after seeing her break down just moments ago. It should embarrass her, how he has to soothe her like a distressed child, but she’s glad for his understanding.

Rey pulls back from their messy embrace to look at Ben. Water is dripping on the floor from his open coat and tilted hat, but he doesn’t seem to care. Some of it falls on her, too. Little spots of freezing water and salt.

She reaches up to tug away the hat; it falls on the floor and reveals his hair, mussed from the wind, the little curls soaked and sticking to his cheeks, his neck. Then she helps him push the coat off his shoulders and cast it aside as well. Ben keeps his eyes on her the whole time, fallen silent, as if in awe of some kind. 

The silence between them is a strange one; even if Ben seems to be in no hurry and doesn’t expect anything from her she isn’t willing to give, she knows she has to do it if she wants to move forward. 

Even though he seemed resigned at first, Rey knew there’s something beneath that facade, something profound and genuine. She saw bits of herself in the rumours she heard of him. Over time, her intrigue developed into admiration — for a man she’d never met before. Many would’ve seen it as foolish, but it helped her. And now, he’s proving to be more than anyone thought he would be. Gentle and understanding.

”You might’ve guessed already but Maz wasn’t always the one who raised me. We’re not related. Before her, I… I had another family.”

Ben waits. No judgement, no words. She tells the story without fear of being interrupted. His small nods or hums punctuate the sentences as Rey recalls what she can remember from her past before Maz. Her parents and their volatile personalities; their penchant for the bottle that eventually led them leaving their child behind by setting her adrift in drunken stupor. 

”After the storm, Maz found the boat I was in washed up on the shore and took me in. She’s a good mother, I’ve got no reason to fear anymore.” She fidgets with the sleeve of her jumper, a strange lump in her throat but relief in her heart for being able to speak these things out loud. “But my real family wasn’t easy, that much I remember.”

“Families are never easy,” Ben eventually says, his voice thick with emotion. He’s looking somewhere she can’t see.

“You think so?”

”My own family certainly wasn’t.”

”What happened?” she asks before she can consider against prying. She’s interested, no doubt, and now that the heaviness in her chest has lifted, she’s keen to shift the conversation, listen to him the same way he did with her.

”Well, if you want to know… It’s not the shortest story.”

As he receives no resistance from her, he begins: ”When the second world war began, my father was drafted immediately. He was a skilled pilot, people knew him because he fought in the first war. I was meant to leave with him, but… The doctors didn’t let me.”

Rey’s brow furrows in curiosity, out of interest to hear him unravel his story. ”Why?”

”A possible heart condition. They didn’t want to risk it. So I stayed behind with my mother in London. It wasn’t for long, though. My father, he…” Ben trails off, looks up into the ceiling, a pained expression on his face and takes a shaking breath. ”He was shot down. We found out on New Year’s Day. I couldn’t take it, I had to get away. You can imagine I was relieved when I found this job. I think… I think his death caused a rift between me and my mother. She still writes letters sometimes, but it’s not the same.” 

Ben falls silent for a moment, then speaks again. “You know, the previous keeper was my grandfather, actually. Anakin Skywalker.”

_ Oh _ . Rey’s eyes widen in astonishment. “Skywalker was your grandfather?”

“He was, yes. Before his job here he fought in the Great War, was discharged not too long before it was over. I never got to talk to him. My mother, she… She always refused, telling me he’d done unspeakable things during the war and then become a bitter hermit nobody should waste their time on. But after he passed away I found out what he’d been doing his final years.”

“So you decided to take on the same job?”

Ben runs his hand through his hair, sighing. “I did. I just… I guess I wanted to pay my respects to him in some way. For not really knowing him before.”

“That is a very honourable decision,” Rey points out. ”Many wouldn’t do that.”

The wind sighs in loneliness and ever so often thunder disrupts it, creating an eerie song. It’s all white noise to Rey. Ben has her undivided attention; she’s been captivated by him in a way she’s never been before, unable to look elsewhere.

“Maybe not. But I needed the new start.”

There’s a somber tone in his voice, laced with remorse. Rey wants to help him, encourage him somehow, but she can’t muster any words to come out; everything feels shallow and already spoken. In that moment the only thing she can come up with is to lay down her hand on his shoulder as a sign of reassurance, to show him he isn’t alone in his feelings. Touching him like this, briefly but with intent… She shivers, but doesn’t break the moment she’s created, only deepens it by peering into his eyes.

This elicits a response out of Ben as well. He looks down at her hand, then back up to her. Mouth slightly agape, but he doesn’t speak a word. Then he’s leaning closer, sparing a glance at her lips. Something great is coming; Rey feels it in the tremble of his body as it’s drawn towards hers. A small twitch beneath his left eye, a shaky inhale. She tilts her chin in subtle invitation.

Thunder strikes and Rey flinches. Ben shudders; he blinks before leaning back, as if awoken from a spell. Once again bashfulness overtakes him. Getting up, he picks up and then sets his discarded coat and hat back to their right places. The moment is shattered, but the softness remains in his eyes as he gives her his hand for her for the second time that day, pulling her up to her feet.

“You were pretty shaken just now. We need to get you warmed up.” 

Soon she’s nursing a cup of tea, the table once again creating a barrier between them. Comforting warmth seeps into her. The events of the day begin to press heavily on her shoulders; she’s thoroughly drained and could definitely use some rest. Ben notices it, too. 

”I’ll keep watch while you sleep,” he mentions as she sets her empty cup on the table. ”The bed won’t fit both of us. You need it more than I do.”

Foolish man. Trying his best to be gallant. She nearly reaches out to take his hand in hers across the table, to evoke a deeper reaction from him, somehow convince him, but doesn’t dare to, not quite yet; like an itch, she suppresses it for now, her hand twitching on her lap. The tension between them has shifted now that they’ve more or less revealed themselves to one another — they’re not willing to cross the line yet, stuck between what they want to do and what they should do. Technicalities.

”Ben, please. Don’t act like I’m the only one who needs to rest.”

He sighs, rakes his eyes along her before giving in— much faster than she thought he would. ”Alright.”

Rey realises she has to be the one to bridge that gap, cross that line. She’s sure Ben will follow.

\--

Ben Solo is nothing the people described him to be. He’s a real, proper man; something primal and soft, both at once, a contradiction. As mysterious as the storm, as sturdy and steadfast as the rocks on the island his lighthouse is perched on. A fine, rare thing, reminding Rey of the delicate china Maz keeps sealed in her cupboard. Beauty beyond her reach, something to be admired.

Except he’s right here, almost as if right beneath her hands, and she quickly learns how much  _ more _ he is. In every way.

They’ve settled down onto the small bed, side by side, barely squeezed in, so close that she can feel him breathe on top of her hair. The previous moment echoes within her; how close he leaned, the curious curve in his movement. There’s a desire in him he can’t hide, something bright and beautiful — and she feels like she recognises it. 

”I keep thinking… What did you mean when you said...” she wonders aloud, the words flowing out of her in a way that makes her blush at her own boldness, ” _ Someone like me? _ What am I like?”

”You’re… I couldn’t believe my eyes when I first saw you. You’re so beautiful and I— You’ve helped me and kept me company even though I was a prick to you.”

Rey laughs, really laughs, and sets a hand on his chest. She sees him gasp silently at the touch. ”Never. And even if you were, I haven’t been the best company either. Skittish and all.”

”Hush. You were wonderful. You  _ are _ wonderful,” he reassures, and Rey believes him — it’s impossible not to when his words crackle like a matchstick just lit. His eyes find hers, even in the low glow of the oil lamp. 

“You’ve helped me, too, you know,” she whispers a confession. ”So much.”

The following silence is filled with thick tension; honey burning at its edges. A pause of such great intimacy where no words are needed. 

An understanding of something profound. A train of thought Rey thinks she should follow and see where it leads. 

But really, she has never been that much one for thinking things through, especially in moments like these, and so... Such things become superfluous when she decides to lean forward and guide him in for a kiss. 

Thunder rattles somewhere far away, but this time it can’t tear them apart; Rey closes her eyes, waiting, feeling the moment, and to her great pleasure, Ben responds. His plump lips curve against hers, without a thought, just like it should be.

A soft sound echoes as they pull apart. Ben watches her with wide eyes; wonder and disbelief in equal measures.

”I… really hope I didn’t overstep just now,” she says, giving voice to that small, fearful part in her mind that says she misread everything and he’s not interested in her after all.

Ben shakes his head, smiling a little bit. The corner of his mouth lifts up and his brown eyes light up; a bright beacon. Such a soft thing amidst all the dark.

”Most definitely not.”

She breathes a sigh of relief, mirroring Ben’s smitten smile. ”Good. Because I’d like to do that again.”

”Please do,” he whispers all too quickly, bringing out a laugh from her before being kissed again. 

Through the thunder and the wind and the pelleting rain the sweet sounds of their kisses echo; her faltering heartbeat raises into a gallop and a peculiar sensation takes over her. It winds itself around her chest, vining through her ribcage, leaving her giddy and smiling. Her wide smile eventually ends the kiss.

Their kisses are fumbling, as treading unknown ground together. It’s messy; their limbs clash, fighting for the scarce space in the tiny bed, his hands are eager they slip beneath her jumper. His fingertips are cold and they make her squirm; she lets out a yelp into his neck that turns into a laugh. 

Ben mumbles something about  _ unsuitable snogging conditions, _ which sounds absolutely ridiculous coming from his posh London mouth, and she decides to nip his bottom lip in retaliation when they kiss again, then slip her tongue into his mouth. Her curious experiments have pleasant results; a muffled moan escapes him, and it does something to her, warms her from the inside out.

Not quite sure how to approach the next step, Rey pulls back to look at Ben. This whole situation is a drastic one; is she really going to give herself to him? They’ve only known each other for a handful of hours, and while she can’t deny the connection between them, this shouldn’t be the step to take so soon. If anyone were to find out...

She fears her hesitation will sour the mood, but her worries become secondary when she sees Ben looking at her with the same sort of excited but terrified curiosity that tells her he too, is shy and uncertain as to what they should do next. A wave of relief as well as pride of some sort washes over her. Neither of them may be that confident, but at least they’re able to take the shaky steps together. She’ll be the first one to see him like this, and he will be the first to see her. Her hesitant hands and trembling lips don’t embarrass her so much when she knows she’ll be met with something similar.

The simmering desire soon takes over and banishes any awkward, stagnant feelings, and when Rey kisses Ben again, deep and wholehearted, her hands finding their way to the back of his neck and into his oh-so soft hair. Whatever happens from now on doesn’t really matter. She has him now, and that’s all she needs. He’s looking at her with a fondness that defies every uncertain or wrong thought that still dares to linger.

Rey finds herself on top of him, suddenly, straddling his waist and looking down at Ben, his starry eyes making her hold her breath. He grasps Rey’s hips, his wide hands nearly fanning her whole waist, and there’s something intense about he grips her. She can’t help but let out a gasp, and out of some remaining shyness she hides her face into his neck, feels his wild pulse beneath her lips. Nothing has ever tasted sweeter. The little gasps he makes when she kisses his neck are her favourite.

It’s fascinating to see how his body comes alive under her touch. How she gets to see him unfold before her. How she’s the one to make his cheeks burn, his breathing heavy, his hands hungry. And he’s the one to bring her to the edge of something she’s never felt before, letting her whole body run free; greedy, soaring, breathless… 

\--

Sleepy and satiated, Rey is more than ready to fall asleep in his arms. Her body feels weary but soft, still trembling from Ben’s touch, and her clouded mind has been cleared; there’s only the vastness of the fading pleasure. 

Just as she’s about to doze off, Ben gets up from the bed with hasty movements. She doesn’t open her eyes but hears him dash up the stairs to the engine room to light the beacon, and once the realisation hits her she has to stifle a giggle. This provided to be quite the distraction indeed, for all sides.

Soon Ben finds his way back to the bed, slips beneath the blanket that barely covers both of them. She’s very warm though, still dressed in her jumper and her body greedily drinking in the heat of his. Her legs slot between his and he pulls her closer. 

”Goodnight, Rey,” Ben whispers after extinguishing the lamp, seals the words with a kiss on her forehead. ”Sleep well.”

Not too long after they succumb to the soothing serenity of sleep, with flushed cheeks and intertwined hands.

During the night Rey wakes up, first disoriented, blinking into the darkness as unease fills her, until the events of the previous day return to her mind. For a while she takes in Ben’s sleeping form beside her. She can’t see him well, but his hand slung over her waist makes sure they stay close, and every so often she can feel his heavy breathing on her cheek. His small snuffles and occasional snores make her smile in the dark. 

The storm has calmed down to sporadic rain and wailing wind that doesn’t have the power to scare her anymore. Rey has never felt this safe with someone; it’s a beautiful comfort that lulls her back to sleep.

\--

When the morning comes, the sunlight returns, glittering on the surface of the ocean. All the storm clouds have drifted away, revealing the bright blue sky once again. The air is pungent, ocean salt that’s been softened by the heavy rain, and Rey breathes it in deeply as she steps out of the lighthouse, Ben right behind her. 

His hand lingers on the small of her back as they head back to the dock, as a reminder of sorts. She looks over her shoulder and reaches out to slip her hand in his, anchoring them to each other with a firm grip. Ben’s bashful smile makes her heart hum, and she gives him a smile of her own in return.

To say that this one storm changed things is an understatement. 

Rey is keenly aware that the townsfolk will have their rather boisterous say on this when they find out, but honestly, she doesn’t care. If anything, this is a chance for people to learn what kind of person Ben really is.

_ I want to do this the right way _ , he said earlier, the two of them still nestled in each other’s arms.  _ Court you and everything.  _ She replied that she needs no courting, but looking back on that… A soft feeling bubbles up in her chest at the idea of having Ben court her, the real, old-fashioned way that older people reminisce about fondly.

Walking down the dock, Rey finds out that the boat survived the storm, God bless. Maybe a little battered and most definitely soaked, but still there. The engine works, too, when she steps in and gets it going. 

Her heart aches to leave him behind, and it’s hard to let go of his hand. She knows it’s not forever, knows he’s only a short boat trip away from her. That’s less distance than most people have between them, but it barely soothes the sharp sting of separation.

“I’ll see you soon,” she says as a farewell in which Ben responds with a promise; a hand on his chest and a bright shine in his eyes.

She lets her eyes rest upon him all the way until he disappears behind the bay and even then she keeps watching, a little bit forlorn, but mostly hopeful. His words and promises have left their mark on her. 

\--

It doesn’t take long for Ben to visit the mainland for the first time in a long while.

Rey greets him by the dock as he steps out of his own boat, grasps his hands in hers from the simple, elated joy and happily accepts the kiss Ben gives on her cheek. The weather is absolutely beautiful; only a few clouds wander about in the sky as the sun shines on them. A light summer breeze ruffles his hair and flows her skirt of her dress out as they walk down the cobblestone street, their arms linked. 

Maz is very pleased to meet Ben, giving him a stern handshake across the shop’s counter and a look that says ‘ _ You’re smart; you know how to treat her right.’  _ By the end of the visit, she’s laughing at something he said, and Rey is beaming at Ben, endlessly glad how easily they’ve fallen into a comfortable rapport.

Gaining her mother’s approval was easy enough, and eventually, so was the town’s.

People got used to seeing him around with her, and Rey doesn’t recall when the rumours and whispers stopped. Barely anyone dared to spare a nasty look at him; they all quickly learned they’d be faced with Rey’s wrath if they did. Ben jokes about her protectiveness but she knows he appreciates it deeply, and finds it moving that she wishes to shield and guard him from harm.

It’s the same when he holds her close as the thunder plays chase with lightning, her shivers and tight grips of terror met with tender words and soothing touches whenever she wants them. It’s the same when she helps him to compose a letter to his mother, his shaking hand forming delicate letters on the paper as she keeps a hand on his shoulder in silent reassurance. When he holds her hand in the dark; when she lights a fire in him. 

Across the bay, they find each other — over and over again. Always with wonder and pride; with great love and understanding that begins at the water’s edge and goes on forever.

**Author's Note:**

> another year, another anthology fic ! this theme just drew me in right away, i looooove thunderstorms a whole bunch. lighthouses are fascinating to me, and i love small seaside towns, so... this concept just wrote itself. i won't spare many details about the writing process, as i'm sure every fic writer has had it tough this year and knows what it's been like. nevertheless, i am proud and glad to have finished this story! each time i write a fic i feel like i discover a new side of myself as a writer, and this piece was no exception.
> 
> i want to thank the mods of rffa for once again arranging and planning this anthology as well as for being really sharp-eyed and dedicated in the editing process, it was a blast to participate. :) i also send all my love to my big sister mara, my faithful beta and a crucial supporter through the writing process. where would i even be without you??
> 
> anyways, enough rambles. i hope y'all enjoy this story, and if that's the case - please let me know ! i'd really love to hear your thoughts about this. i'll see you guys later! (probably with another reylo fic, i've just begun a new wip i'm really keen to finish >:3)


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